


what if we lost our minds

by eberbae (dustyjournal), remembermyfic



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Connor has too many feelings, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 23:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10398978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustyjournal/pseuds/eberbae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/remembermyfic/pseuds/remembermyfic
Summary: Connor has no idea where it comes from, is the thing. He doesn’t know what he touched, where it came in contact with his skin. Rogers Place is huge, and that assumes he didn’t get it from anywhere else he’s been in Edmonton. He didn’t even know it could have a latency effect, hitting at the least opportune time.Hell, he doesn’t even know what itis.





	

**Author's Note:**

> We hung out for a weekend and this happened. We can't seem to write porn without feelings, but we blame Connor.
> 
> We made this as consenting as we could given the nature of the fic.

Connor has no idea where it comes from, is the thing. He doesn’t know what he touched, where it came in contact with his skin. Rogers Place is huge, and that assumes he didn’t get it from anywhere else he’s been in Edmonton. He didn’t even know it could have a latency effect, hitting at the least opportune time.

Hell, he doesn’t even know what it _is_.

Not that any of that matters. What matters is that it hits him on the way to practice, his stomach warming, blood pumping just a little bit faster. He bites his lip in the back seat, tries to listen to the way Leon and Nursey are bickering in the front and not look at how big Leon’s hands are. He fades in and out, a little foggy and has to resist pressing his palm to his hard dick, but he’s had worse. He’s dealt with worse. He’s been high as a kite just after surgery on his collarbone and still done comprehensive media.

He can do this.

He’s maybe slower than normal getting into his gear. He thanks all of the hockey gods that pants are so big even if it means he’s chafing against his clothes, hard and hot and unable to do anything about it. He’s avoiding everyone, avoiding touch, hoping to god he doesn’t infect anyone else because... well, with two of them, and if it’s someone with half of his self-control... Connor will not be responsible for the Oilers going down because of whatever the hell is making him so horny.

“You okay, Davo?”

Connor blinks back to the present to find Nuge looking at him from the door, the last one in the room apart from himself. Nuge looks - yeah, Nuge looks so good. Connor could pull him into the dressing room and fuck him before practice even starts. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’m good just. I’ll be out in a sec.”

Which is weird. Connor knows it’s weird. Connor has his systems, just like the rest of the guys, and none of them involve him being the last on the ice. Especially for practice.

A practice that is, if he’s honest, hell. He dodges too many hits, has to be so careful with the angle of his body, his skates. He feels like he’s half-assing it even though he’s feeling impossibly drained from worry that he’ll ruin this for everyone. Every brush of another human sets sparks along his skin under his pads. Everyone looks so _good,_ so muscular and agile and Connor can’t look at anyone for too long or his dick starts to ache. It’s miserable and McLellan has to know there’s something up from the way he’s watching Connor closely.

“Hey, buddy.”

Connor skates back just a little in panic when Hendy comes over, concern in his eyes and ‘dad’ in his voice. “I’m fine.” He makes himself stand a little straighter, a little taller, a little more sure of himself like he is when he’s on the ice. “It’s fine.”

Hendy comes a little closer and it takes all of Connor not to lean back again. Or worse, forward. “Look, we’d all get it if you wanted to take a day man. You’ve been working hard.”

Connor doesn’t say he hadn’t done anything against Montreal. He doesn’t say they’re not secure. He certainly doesn’t have to tell Hendy that the League still sees them as a bit of a miracle - Connor McDavid’s team, even if he hates it with every fibre of his being. “I’m fine.”

His ears are roaring.

His blood is pounding.

He makes it through practice. It’s a miracle, but then he’s back in the dressing room, everything buzzing around him as his blood pumps, as he tries with all his might to keep his hands clinical as he removes his gear. He curls his toes into the carpet when his fingers stroke absently over his Under Armour, an accident when removing his pads that nearly makes him groan.

“Davo.”

Connor swallows and closes his eyes. He knows Leon’s voice. It’s the one he’s been avoiding more than any other out there because god, Connor’s heard that voice in his dreams so many times - low and intimate, just for them, like Leon does when he thinks Connor needs to be knocked out of his own head.

Like Connor’s sure he sounds with his mouth against someone’s skin. Connor’s skin.

Connor _wants_.

“Connor.”

He jolts upright, hadn’t even realized he was leaning forward. “‘M fine.”

Leon doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches Connor squirm. Then he’s looking over his shoulder at the way the place is clearing out before his eyes - _those_ eyes - are back on Connor. “Where did you get it?”

Connor’s shaking. He can feel his skin vibrating, begging for Leon to touch him, to grab Leon and make him crazy with lust too. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“Connor.” And Leon’s leaning in again, closer now and Connor-

“Don’t!”

Leon doesn’t rear back, but he does stop, far enough that he’d be a safe distance away if Connor weren’t burning up. As it stands, Connor’s grip is white-knuckled on the bench beneath him.

“Don’t? Why?”

“You can’t touch me,” Connor says desperately. “You can’t- I just... I just have to go home.”

“We both know that’s not how this works.”

Connor looks up at Leon, the conviction in his face. “You can’t-”

“Connor. Listen to me.”

Connor can’t do anything else. It’s Leon and he’s here and Connor wants him. He’ll do what he has to do. He can. For Leon he can-

“Connor. Do you want to have sex with me?”

Connor whimpers despite the way he tries to bite it down. His breath comes a little heavier, a little more unsteady. His cheeks flame up as he admits, “I want to have sex with _everyone_.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Leon argues in the same low, quiet voice. “I’m asking, if you weren’t...” He waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Would you want this? I want to help you, Connor, but not if you wouldn’t want this otherwise.”

Connor blinks, then blinks again, but Leon is still there, solid and real. “Yes.”

Leon nods once. “Let’s go home.”

“Leon-”

“Home, Connor.”

Leon doesn’t help him get his gear together, nor does he help him shower. He waits in his car and doesn’t touch Connor when he slides into the passenger’s seat, either. “Sit on your hands,” he says when Connor’s buckled up. “We can’t... Not until we’re home.”

The ride home is a blur. Connor just tries to keep breathing, tries to forget about the man driving, about what it’ll feel like to finally have Leon, to push against him, get his mouth on Leon’s skin, make Leon feel good. How it’ll feel to have Leon’s hands wandering all the places Connor’s wanted them to wander for so, so long.

“Davo.”

Connor blinks his eyes open to find that they’re home and all but sprints from the car. His gear can wait. His bag can wait. He can’t. He races up to his bedroom, cups himself through his pants just for a little relief. They’re going to fix this. Leon’s going to fix this.

He’s going to have sex with Leon.

“Hey.”

Connor’s not sure how long he’s zoned out with it, only knows his hand’s moving over his sweats, a tease when he wants more. “Leon.”

“Connor.” Leon’s face is so serious. Too serious. “I need you to tell me again.”

It takes Connor’s arousal-ridden brain almost too long to come up with what Leon’s even talking about, let alone the words he wants to hear. “I want you. Now and yesterday and the day before that and fuck, Leon, please.”

“Okay.”

Then Leon’s touching Connor’s cheek, his fingertips setting fire to his blood. Connor gasps and lists towards Leon. A moment later, Leon’s gasping too, hand curling up behind Connor’s head.

“Holy fuck, Connor,” he says, eyes wide but a little unfocused and crazed. “I’d heard stories but... Fuck. Is this what you feel?”

He’s stepping closer, pressing himself all against Connor and Connor whimpers at the hard line of Leon’s cock against his thigh. “Leon.”

There’s a growl and then Leon’s shoving him back towards his bed. Connor falls to it easily, strips his shirt off quickly and shuffles up to the pillows. Leon’s right up there after him, crawling between his spread thighs until he can get his mouth on Connor’s skin. Connor gasps at the first brush of Leon’s mouth, reaches for the hem of his shirt. It flies over Leon’s head a moment later and Connor falls back to the pillows, brings Leon with him so they’re chest to chest.

“Fuck, Connor. Do you know how long-?”

“Yes,” Connor says, not even caring about the question. He kisses Leon with fervour before pulling back to get another look at Leon so, so close to him. He just wants Leon’s skin beneath his hands, his mouth. He wants Leon’s sounds in his ear, telling Connor that _yes, so long. So long, Connor. Wanted you forever. Want you so bad right now. Fuck -_

Somewhere between those words, Leon kisses his way down Connor’s bare chest and makes room for himself between Connor’s spread legs. His fingers dance along Connor’s waistband, a momentary tease before he’s shoving at the sweats and underwear. It’s awkward for a moment, Connor’s legs tangled in his pants and his hips arching involuntarily to chase the heat that Leon’s breath is giving off, until Leon makes another impatient noise and wraps his mouth around the head of Connor’s cock.

Connor’s entire body lights up. Leon’s mouth is hot and sloppy and everything Connor has ever dreamed of. Leon takes Connor deep and it’s all Connor can do not to fuck up into it; he puts a hand in Leon’s hair to let him know he wants Leon to stay there as long as possible, maybe for a little help grounding himself because this is… this is beyond anything Connor could have dreamed.

Leon pulls off with an obscene sound. He doesn’t take his eyes from Connor’s cock as he licks his lips and dives down again. Connor groans, loud and long, fingers clenching subconsciously in Leon’s hair. It’s not the best blowjob Connor’s ever received, though he has a feeling that it’s not Leon’s fault. They’re both burning up, desperate, and it shows in the sloppy way Leon swallows him down, chokes just a little. Connor tries to soothe him, tries to get his fingers to smooth away his hair, but the minute he raises his head, he’s lost in the way Leon’s eyes flutter closed, the way his mouth spreads obscenely around Connor’s cock.

He can’t stop watching. Leon’s face looks blissed out, like there’s nothing in the world better than this and Connor doesn’t know what to do. He scratches softly at Leon’s head, fists the sheets in his other hand. He’s close too fast, whatever’s in his system and just Leon, Leon, Leon-

Leon, who pulls off right when Connor thinks he’s too close, that he can’t last any longer, that he should be able to last longer even though he’s young because this may not happen again and if it doesn’t Connor wants to savour it and-

“Breathe.”

Connor does, this long shuddering thing while Leon’s hands trace tantalizing patterns into his hips, his thighs, skin made more sensitive by whatever has his blood pumping fast and hot in his veins. Connor doesn’t know how Leon’s keeping his composure right now, when Connor’s doing anything but.

Connor means to say a simple okay, means to reassure Leon that he’s good, that he wants to keep going. He’s not really sure how it becomes, “fuck me.”

Leon growls and rears up, takes Connor’s mouth in fierce kiss that has the perfect about of bite. “Do you have-”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He tries to stretch for it, pinned under Leon’s weight while Leon presses desperate kisses against his neck and shoulder. “Fuck. I can’t-”

Leon’s head comes up, and he chuckles a little, eyes dark and face flushed, following Connor’s outstretched hand to the bedside table. Lube in hand, he shuffles down the bed and Connor has half a second to breathe before Leon’s pressing a slick finger to his asshole. He groans and pushes into it, wants more _now_ before Leon’s even two knuckles inside.

“Slow,” Leon argues and Connor belatedly realizes none of that had been said in the safe confines of his head. “You’re tight, Connor.”

Connor doesn’t want slow and he’s pretty sure Leon isn’t set on it either. Leon’s holding himself so still, so steady, and Connor knows what that means. Leon looks like he wants to worship every inch of Connor’s body, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, like he wants to make this last and last and last. But his hands are shaking with need and he’s chewing on his lip in all the ways Connor wants to be. He must be losing it, trying to focus on Connor when Connor imagines just how hard and desperate Leon’s dick must be.

“It’s fine,” Connor manages to grit out. “I’m fine.”

“Fuck,” Leon breathes. Then, “Okay, just-”

The second finger feels better than the first, the right kind of stretch but still not close to what Connor really wants. “Oh my- would you just fuck me?”

For a moment, Connor thinks he’s somehow pushed too far. But the next, Leon’s huffing, curling his fingers just right, and sliding his mouth around Connor’s cock and Connor is only fucking human.

Connor comes hard, pulsing into Leon’s mouth and muffling his whines with his bicep. Leon takes Connor in deeper and pulls off oh so slowly.

The relief, the bonelessness of an afterglow, that usually accompanies his orgasms is nonexistent. He only wants more, wants Leon in him now. He tells Leon this and groans in relief when Leon scissors his two fingers before quickly adding a third.

“Almost there,” Leon pants, and as much as Connor appreciates Leon looking after his wellbeing, Connor has to think about what Leon needs too.

“I’m there, I promise,” Connor pants, gripping Leon’s hair tight and pulling him up a bit. Leon’s eyes flash with lust and Connor catalogues that information for later. “Condoms are in the same place.”

Leon pulls his fingers out and then practically launches himself at the drawer. His rock hard cock rubs against Connor’s hipbone and it’s so enticing that Connor feels his hole spasming, empty and needy.

“Leon…” Connor trails off, gripping Leon’s hips. Whatever this sex pollen thing is, it has him so desperate and hasn’t worn off yet. But for the first time since Connor started feeling like he wanted to fuck his entire team, he’s not complaining.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Leon chants as he slides the condom on, then kisses Connor’s neck. He braces his arms on either side of Connor’s head and Connor reaches down to guide Leon’s cock inside.

Leon’s right, Connor’s tight, but he’s also loose and languid from his orgasm. He counts that as the reason Leon’s slow press inside is miles less uncomfortable than it could have been. Leon can’t seem to catch his breath, and Connor knows the feeling as he rocks down, presses back against Leon and the cock stretching him open. It’s just the right side of too much, his blood singing with all the ways he’s full.

He breathes out, then says, “Leon. Leon, you’ve gotta move.”

Leon groans low, Connor can feel it where Leon’s pressed against his chest, then pushes in a little bit further before pulling out halfway. It makes Connor’s toes curl and his nails dig into Leon’s shoulders. As Leon pushes back in, Connor wraps his legs around Leon’s calves. He needs to touch, needs to know that every movement, every touch, is real. He drops his head back on a long breath, sinks into the press and release of Leon fucking him, long and slow and just a little deeper each time.

“Fuck, Connor,” Leon manages, breathes really and Connor’s chest goes tight. There’s so much in just the two syllables of his name and Connor knows, he does, really, that Leon had been telling the clear and honest truth about how he felt. He’s wanted Connor like this for so long, maybe as long as Connor’s wanted it for himself and Connor...

There’s a reality dangling in front of him, in the way Leon presses little kisses to his jaw, the way his hands slide under Connor’s shoulders like he needs to hold Connor steady, where Connor gets this every day, whenever he wants it. There’s a reality where Connor can reach for Leon when they’re on the couch, lean against him when the days and games get so long, when the grind of carrying the team on his shoulders is too much. It’s a reality Connor wants - not more than he wanted hockey, but it comes pretty damn close.

He’s not sure what’s next, after this… god, he’s going to have to figure out whatever it is that has him gagging over Leon’s dick. He doesn’t know where they’re supposed to go from here, but he thinks maybe, with the way Leon touches him, the low murmur of his voice in a language Connor doesn’t understand, that there is a way to go forward from here. That he has a chance to have this every day.

“Leon,” he says, and hears the desperation in his own voice, feels how his body arches into every movement of Leon’s. “Leon, please.”

“Yes,” Leon groans, shifts his weight and presses in Connor just right. Connor whines, then cuts himself off when Leon wraps a hand around his cock. Connor chokes on air and feels himself teeter on the edge, wants it, but wants Leon more. Wants him as close as Leon will come.

Leon gives him everything Connor’s body asks for, pushes into him just a little more, a little faster. He grips Connor just right, presses his mouth into the skin of Connor’s neck.

And then Connor hears, “I’m close, Connor.”

It lights him up from the inside out, makes him writhe beneath Leon’s touch until Leon hits his prostate and tightens his grip just enough. Connor comes again, slips over that cliff with a long keen, clenching down on the cock inside him. Leon swears, and Connor feels Leon’s grip on his shoulder tighten for a moment, long enough for Connor to understand through the haze of his climax that Leon’s found his own orgasm.

Connor grabs Leon’s chin to bring their lips together. It’s heavy and full of all of the things Connor knows they’re going to have to say. But as they kiss, the need and dizziness starts to fade slowly and Connor feels like he can breathe again. Except Leon is a hockey player, and while Connor is one, of course, Leon is a little more dense than he is.

“Um,” Connor says, a little breathless from more than the kiss. Leon seems to get the hint because he pulls out slowly and rolls off to the side. It’s still a few moments before Connor can look over and Leon’s already looking at him, already evaluating him.

“Better?” he asks quietly and Connor squirms, trying to feel himself out.

“Yeah.” He wants to reach out, wants to curl against Leon’s shoulder and push closer.

“Where do you think you got it?”

Connor swallows. “Got it?”

“The sex pollen,” Leon answers, then does the absolute last thing Connor wants and pushes himself up from the bed. Connor almost bites through his tongue to keep his desperate noise soft and in his throat. It’s almost enough for him to miss Leon’s question.

“Is that-”

Leon stops halfway across the room, unselfconsciously naked, but very obviously concerned. “You didn’t know?”

“It’s not _real_.” Except it is, it is and Connor’s felt it, dealt with it, had Leon fuck him through it. “It wasn’t real.”

Leon chokes on what has to be a laugh because the corner of his mouth is tilting up in amusement. “Of course it’s real.”

It has to be nerves, Connor thinks, nerves or just the fact that he’s still trying to grasp at the edges of post-orgasmic contentment when he says, “That’s a shitty getting together story.”

It’s like the air gets sucked out of the room. Leon’s standing there, tied-off condom in hand, looking at him for a moment, then two, before he says, “Is that what this is.”

It’s not a question. Connor can tell that much, and his stomach flips over. “You said-” He swallows, makes himself shift up the bed at least a little, wrinkles his nose at the feeling of lube on his skin before battling on, “You said you wouldn’t… you wouldn’t fuck me if I didn’t want you otherwise.”

Leon is still frozen in his awkward tableau. “I did.”

“Did you think I was lying?”

That makes Leon laugh. “You’re a shitty liar.”

“Exactly,” Connor replies. “So. I wasn’t lying. You’d know.”

They’re both silent as Leon walks over, drops the used condom in the garbage. His face is intense when he looks back at Connor. “You want…”

It’s quiet for so long. Connor’s the one that actually says, “You?” Then he shrugs because Leon not only got him off twice but fucked him through what was apparently sex pollen. Really, after that, Connor’s not totally sure where the barriers are. Especially since his feelings for Leon extend beyond the bedroom. “Yeah.”

Leon crosses the space of his room quickly, climbs onto the bed and presses his mouth to Connor’s. It’s different this time, without the need thrumming through his blood, without feeling like he needs to do anything else. He sinks into the kiss, lets himself shift under Leon’s weight, wrap an arm around Leon’s neck. He’s breathless when Leon pulls away, far enough to press another kiss to his cheek, light and sweet.

“Yeah.”

Connor grins, can’t help himself. It’s the dumb one, wide and unrestrained. “Good.”

Leon laughs, shakes his head, and kisses Connor again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit us on tumblr at [remembermyfic](http://remembermyfic.tumblr.com/) and [eberbae](http://eberbae.tumblr.com)!


End file.
